I am a nomad. I live and breathe any and every opportunity to travel the globe and immerse myself in new places and cultures. Traveling is truly what makes me feel most alive.
Or at least I USED to feel this way.
I’ve been on adventure-travel hiatus since Piers and Wallace came on the scene, though I’m actively working to change that now that they’re getting older.
We have done a little traveling with the kiddos, but we do more stay-cays and haven’t even attempted an airplane foursome. And I’ve been okay with this, for the most part.
I spent most of my 20s convinced that there was a bigger and better something anywhere other than where I was. I was a flight attendant pre-911, and I galavanted to Europe, Asia, South America, nearly every state in the US and beyond. When I wasn’t working a trip, I was researching my next vacation or using my fabulous travel benefits in one capacity or another. I loved airports, suitcases, inflight magazines, hotels, all of it.
Gil was different in our pre-kid life as well. He was content to go along on whatever harebrained, last-minute travel scheme I concocted and more times than not, we had a rocking good time.
Things have changed. Financial priorities have changed. We have a mortgage and no travel fund.
But we manage.
We live near beautiful beaches, and no longer having a ticket to the world has forced me to get to know Coastal Georgia, Savannah, North Florida and the Carolinas, and I’m WAY better for it. The Southeastern US is a gem. If you haven’t been here, put it on your list.
I always longed for faraway locales. I had more grand adventures than I can count, but I missed a lot of my own backyard so to speak. I’ve learned to appreciate and get to know my native state and those neighboring it, and I doubt this would have happened if I still worked in the travel industry.
This weekend we’re heading to DeWees Island near Charleston, SC. We’re meeting our friends, Zip and Ani, and their kids. And yes, I should be packing instead of blogging. Oh well.
I can’t wait…but I also can’t seem to get everyone’s shit together and frankly, all the preplanning that goes into traveling with four people is enough to housebound me for life.
After the kids left for school this morning, Gil was lollygagging and IN MY OPINION, packing unnecessary “necessities.” I mean, do we really need to take a french press and special knives?
We’re staying in a beach house.
For ONE weekend.
I’m pretty certain there will be a coffee maker and adequate chopping materials. I also don’t think we need to bring our teapot.
Sweet LORD, Honey!! Is it too much to ask to keep it simple?
Here’s where my anxiety kicks in. My plan for the weekend is to park it on the beach with Ani and a book and call it a day. The kids can play. We’ll do some activities at some point, most of which I’m hoping Gil and Zip can arrange. I need chill time. Keeping up with Gil’s five-piece coffee press is gonna stress me out. And to those of you new to this blog, yes, I will be the one who has to keep up with this sort of thing. If I don’t, I can be sure that when we get home minus one of the five pieces, I’ll have a charge to Amazon for another. Then THAT will stress me out.
I attempted to communicate my concern to Gil when I was trying to convince him that we could drink basic coffee for TWO mornings. I went on to tell him that I also have anxiety when we travel because I don’t want to fight. And since having children, anytime we leave our house for more than 24 hours, all hell breaks loose. I don’t want to do that this weekend.
This has gotten way long and I have no time to revise and edit, but I feel better just putting it out here. I hope to get back to more active blogging soon. I scroll through my reader and skim posts, but I’m beginning to realize what an amazing outlet and network of support the blogging community is for me. I MISS YOU GUYS!!!! I’ll be back, but for now this is what it is.
I’m off to pack. I read through this post last night and then this one to remind myself what I DON’T want. The trip from hell that I describe also involved family, which further fuels fights between Gil and me. Zip and Ani recharge us and we’re both in a better place emotionally than we were last June.
In “About Me” I describe my marriage as a practice, and I still approach it that way. The two of us continue showing up.
I used to travel from one place to another because I was convinced that somewhere else was always better. I did that with relationships, too. A family beach getaway is a far cry from our childless days jet-setting to Dublin and San Francisco with one roll-on suitcase and backpacks, and that’s okay. In this moment, I’m looking forward to a conflict-free weekend. Okay, okay, I’ll settle for conflict-light. We can do this!
Wishing you all a beautiful weekend!
Do you have travel anxiety? Do you and your partner fight when you travel? What are your tips and secrets to success?